After Amnesia, I Learn I'm a Scumbag Top?! - Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Pei Ji’s phone vibrated incessantly all the way home. Without even looking, he knew it had to be Lü Yi bombarding him with questions about his boyfriend.

By the time Pei Ji tried to silence his phone, it was too late. Chu Tinghan had already unlocked it and was scrolling through the barrage of messages:

“Since when did you get a boyfriend?”

“I thought you were joking last time! But you were serious?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dating someone?”

“Who’s your boyfriend?”

“What does he look like? Is he handsome?”

“You’re hiding your relationship from me?”

“After everything I did for you in school? You’re so heartless!”

The lock screen flooded with a relentless stream of notifications. Chu Tinghan, his expression icy, couldn’t stand it any longer. He silenced the phone and tossed it onto the table behind him, raising an eyebrow with a hint of displeasure. “Who is he?” he asked.

Pei Ji inexplicably caught a whiff of sour, gunpowder-tinged jealousy in the air.

This felt eerily like being caught cheating by his current partner with lingering feelings for an ex.

But Lü Yi? What kind of ex is he? A former club member? A former roommate?

How could he explain that his buddy was just mad he’d been dating someone in secret, enjoying happiness alone?

He’d almost blurted out that Lü Yi was accusing him of abandoning his bro for personal happiness, but he caught himself. That would only confirm Chu Tinghan’s delusion that his ex still harbored lingering feelings.

Pei Ji felt a mix of amusement and exasperation. After a moment’s hesitation, he suggested, “Can I have your phone for a second?”

Chu Tinghan showed no reaction, his gaze fixed intently on Pei Ji as he placed the phone in his hand. “Who is he?” he asked. “Why haven’t you introduced us?”

Pei Ji froze. Those words sounded eerily familiar, almost identical to what Lü Yi had said when they first met. When did Chu Tinghan develop such a good memory… and become so possessive?

Taking the phone, Pei Ji unlocked it and scrolled through their chat history, swiping upward until he found the word “buddy.” He handed the phone back to Chu Tinghan, explaining, “Just a friend.”

Anyone seeing “buddy” would assume there was nothing romantic going on. But Chu Tinghan latched onto the word “friend” like a bulldog, refusing to let go.

Chu Tinghan repeated with a strained smile, “Friend?”

If I remember correctly, Pei Ji introduced himself to Lü Yi as a friend too, he thought.

Friend? Should I add the word “male” to that as well?

The next moment, Pei Ji seemed to finally realize Chu Tinghan was spiraling down another rabbit hole. He followed suit, adding words—this time, two.

“Male friend,” Pei Ji emphasized, his voice particularly stressing the word “male.”

This time, Chu Tinghan’s expression finally softened a bit.

Pei Ji seized the opportunity to press on. “He’s getting married in the second half of the year. If you’d like, I can take you to his wedding.”

“Really?” Chu Tinghan’s expression finally returned to normal.

Pei Ji gave a dry laugh. “Of course.”

Chu Tinghan nodded slowly, then walked past him into the kitchen to instruct Aunt Zhang to add a few more dishes to tonight’s dinner.

Pei Ji let out a sigh of relief. Despite being completely innocent, he couldn’t shake the feeling of being caught red-handed.

Taking advantage of Chu Tinghan’s distraction, he quickly sent a message to Lü Yi:

Pei Ji: Send me a wedding invitation.

Lü Yi: What for? Planning to steal ideas?

Pei Ji: Hurry up!

Lü Yi: ?

Lü Yi: So eager to give me a wedding gift already?

Pei Ji: Urgent! Send it now!

Lü Yi didn’t understand, but under Pei Ji’s relentless urging, he complied.

As soon as he received Lü Yi’s wedding invitation, Pei Ji forwarded it to someone who might still be stuck in their own head.

The very next second, Chu Tinghan’s phone pinged like a savior.

Chu Tinghan assumed it was work-related, but to his surprise, the sender was right beside him.

Junior Husband: [Wedding Invitation Link]

Junior Husband: Address and time are in there. If you’re free, I’ll take you with me.

Pei Ji stood five meters away, anxiously watching Chu Tinghan’s reaction.

This time, he has to believe it, right? The couple’s wedding photos are plastered all over the invitation—it has nothing to do with me.

Sure enough, he saw the corners of Chu Tinghan’s lips twitch upward slightly. Without replying, he turned and re-entered the kitchen, presumably to give further instructions.

That evening, Pei Ji stared in disbelief at the mountain of dishes piled on the table. “Is it a holiday or something?” he asked incredulously.

Could it be some anniversary I forgot?

Hearing this, Chu Tinghan simply said, “No.”

After a pause, he unexpectedly took the initiative to serve food to Chengcheng, who was staring at him in astonishment. “Chengcheng is still growing, so I asked Aunt Zhang to prepare a little extra.”

Growing? Pei Ji thought skeptically. I suspect Chu Tinghan wants to feed our son into a giant.

Normally, Pei Ji would spend some time playing with Chengcheng after dinner, but tonight he was in no mood for that. He hadn’t even managed to pacify his son’s father yet—how could he possibly have time for the child?

Besides, he’d noticed Chengcheng seemed to prefer playing with Sister Xu lately, so he briefly entrusted him to her for the night.

Leaning back on the sofa, Pei Ji felt an urge to scrutinize his chat logs with Lü Yi under a magnifying glass. But no matter how he scrutinized them, forward or backward, he still couldn’t figure out how Chu Tinghan had misinterpreted their relationship.

Just as he was pondering this, a faint voice drifted from behind him.

“You two are quite close, aren’t you?” Chu Tinghan had drifted silently to his side, standing close beside him. His tone was light and airy, as if he didn’t care, but Pei Ji felt a sudden chill run down his spine.

Avoiding the topic would only make him look guilty. Besides, there was nothing to hide about his relationship with Lü Yi. After pondering for a long time, he decided to be honest and tell the truth: “High school classmates, college roommates, and we were even in the same club. I’d say we’re pretty good friends.”

As if a century had passed, Chu Tinghan finally nodded indifferently, as if the question had been a casual remark he didn’t really care about. But after the previous incident, Pei Ji couldn’t shake the feeling that some complex emotion lay beneath the surface.

I used to be such a jerk. I can’t let him get the wrong impression again, Pei Ji thought, frowning. He resolved to clarify things: “You…”

But the moment he opened his mouth, he found himself at a loss for words.

Should I say, “You seem unhappy today, especially after seeing Lü Yi. Why are you so upset?”

That would sound too deliberate, wouldn’t it? It would just make it seem like I’m trying to cover something up.

In the end, he clamped his mouth shut, not uttering a single word.

But Chu Tinghan was still waiting for him to speak.

After a long moment of hesitation, Pei Ji finally managed to squeeze out, “Are you… happy today?”

He immediately regretted it.

Crap… that sounds even more deliberate, doesn’t it?!

He wanted to dig a hole right there and bury himself.

But in the next instant, Chu Tinghan hummed in response. If only I hadn’t met that certain someone, I might still be a little happier.

After that, Chu Tinghan seemed to completely drop his guard and never brought up the matter again. Yet Pei Ji couldn’t shake the feeling that this man wasn’t as magnanimous as he appeared.

Maybe I should come up with a plan to nip this in the bud.

He pulled out his phone and texted Lü Yi again.

Pei Ji: From now on, remember to call me “bro” or “mate” in your messages.

Lü Yi: ?

Lü Yi: Were you hacked? Possessed?

Pei Ji: Where’s the “bro”?

At that moment, Lü Yi wanted to throw his phone eight feet away, fearing he’d catch something.

Lü Yi: …

Lü Yi: Bro, is that really you?

Pei Ji: Now you’re getting it.

Lü Yi: …Are you okay?

Pei Ji: Where’s the “bro”?

Lü Yi: Okay, okay, bro.

Lü Yi: Bro, stop it, you’re scaring me! [Trembling emoji]

Seeing that Lü Yi seemed to understand his meaning, Pei Ji stopped texting him.

Half an hour later, Chu Tinghan called him over to help Chengcheng with his craft project. Pei Ji’s phone, lying on the table, suddenly buzzed. Chu Tinghan glanced down and saw the message on the screen.

The blatant words burned his eyes.

“Good night, buddy,” Lü Yi texted.

Pei Ji stared in disbelief. What’s Lü Yi playing at, saying good night to me?

Now, even if I jumped into the Yellow River, I’d never clear my name!

By the time he snapped out of it and scrambled for his phone, it was too late.

Chu Tinghan picked up the phone but didn’t move, staring at Pei Ji for a long moment before handing it back. As the phone touched his palm, Pei Ji saw Chu Tinghan raise a cold eyebrow and ask, “Your relationship is… quite close?”

Chu Tinghan’s face remained expressionless, his tone calm, but the darkening glint in his eyes betrayed his true feelings.

Pei Ji’s expression twisted slightly. Chu Tinghan isn’t just a little petty—he’s extremely, excessively petty.

And the kind who stubbornly clings to his pride while being petty.

An idea suddenly struck Pei Ji. He decided to tease him. This time, surprisingly not refuting his claim, he calmly took the phone, nodded, and played along, saying, “We’ve known each other since childhood, so of course we’re close.”

Then, pretending to glance down at his phone, he secretly observed Chu Tinghan’s reaction through his peripheral vision.

As expected, Chu Tinghan’s face turned a ghastly shade of green. Forget about maintaining a detached, indifferent facade—he couldn’t even feign basic composure anymore.

Unfortunately, Pei Ji’s acting was too clumsy. He barely managed to maintain his stiff smile before it crumbled, a muffled chuckle escaping his lips.

Chu Tinghan turned to look at him.

Pei Ji pursed his lips, coughed, and, afraid of giving himself away if he kept facing him, turned and walked away. With feigned seriousness, he said, “But I still think we’re closer.”

He paused mid-stride, glanced back at the petty man, raised an eyebrow, and casually added, “Don’t you think so, Hubby?”

The words slipped out so effortlessly that Chu Tinghan’s lips had already curved into a smile before Pei Ji even realized what he’d said. Too stunned to trust his ears, Chu Tinghan asked after a beat, “W-what did you just say?”

Pei Ji was in a daze, regretting digging his own grave. But he’d already committed to the act—surrendering now would be too costly.

After a moment’s thought, he pretended nothing had happened and said, “I just meant we’re the closest. What do you think, Director Chu?”

“Yes,” Chu Tinghan replied, lowering his head with a faint, helpless smile. “Brother Pei.”

Pei Ji realized he’d made a grave mistake. This man should be called “Invincible” or, more accurately, “Extremely Petty.”

He had started calling Chu Tinghan “Director Chu,” and now Chu Tinghan had mirrored his move, mimicking others by calling him “Brother Pei.”

But… Pei Ji savored the title again, his emotions growing increasingly complicated.

Given their age difference, he’d never imagined he’d hear Chu Tinghan call him “Brother” in his lifetime, let alone imagined what it would feel like.

Senior calling me “Brother”… How could he describe the sensation? It was like a tiny, bubble-blowing fish had taken up residence in his heart, pink bubbles rising slowly, or like a feather brushing lightly against his skin, leaving him inexplicably ticklish.

Pei Ji swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “What did you say just now? I didn’t quite catch that.”

Pei Ji practically had “Say it again!” written across his face, but Chu Tinghan deliberately refused to indulge him, returning to the serious topic. “I said Chengcheng needs help with a craft project. Can you give him a hand?”

The bubble-blowing fish in Pei Ji’s heart swam away, and the word “project” instantly snapped him back to reality. Baffled, he asked, “Doesn’t he just go to daycare? They give homework now?”

“For their art project, the teacher asked them to fold a bouquet of paper flowers at home and bring it to school tomorrow,” Chu Tinghan explained.

Pei Ji frowned slightly. “Can they use real flowers?”

“Probably not,” Sister Xu said, walking over with Chengcheng after hearing the commotion. “The teacher specifically said to use colored paper.”

Pei Ji confirmed, a little embarrassed, “So I really have to make them myself?”

Sister Xu smiled. “Of course! Actually, Chengcheng really enjoys crafting. He always has so much fun with it.”

Pei Ji looked down and saw Chengcheng gazing up at him with wide, dark-grape-like eyes, his face full of anticipation.

Crafting felt like something from Pei Ji’s distant childhood. He probably hadn’t made anything since kindergarten, and he had no experience with paper folding—he was completely clueless.

But faced with Chengcheng’s hopeful, slightly worshipful gaze, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

The child was just too adorable; that was probably his only flaw. Pei Ji simply couldn’t say no to his requests.

After a moment’s hesitation, Pei Ji gritted his teeth and agreed. “Fine. Even if I have to fold a whole skyscraper out of paper today, I’ll make it happen.”

Pei Ji and Chengcheng entered the study.

Origami was a complex task. He had to learn it first, but he didn’t want his son, who looked at him with such admiration, to know that his dad was really just putting on a brave face. Forget folding a flower—he couldn’t even fold the basic fortune teller. So, he first put Chengcheng in front of an animated show while he frantically scoured video tutorials to learn origami, racing against the clock.

After watching several tutorials, Pei Ji thought he had a grasp of the basics and rejoined Chengcheng to teach him.

Chengcheng learned slowly but was exceptionally earnest, listening carefully to every word Pei Ji said, his eyes shining, his lips pursed as he muttered something about never having seen a flower so close before.

Chengcheng had chosen the flower himself—a lily, which had a relatively simple tutorial.

Despite its simplicity, the child’s fine motor skills clearly weren’t up to the task, so Pei Ji ended up doing most of the folding himself.

Halfway through, Pei Ji suddenly remembered something. He glanced back at the tightly closed door, then leaned in close to Chengcheng’s ear and whispered something.

But the next moment, Chu Tinghan unexpectedly entered with a plate of fruit, catching the father and son in the act of conspiratorial murmuring the moment he stepped through the door.

Curious, he moved closer and realized they were simply working on a school craft project, meticulously following instructions. There was nothing suspicious about their activity.

The next morning, after Chu Tinghan woke up and stepped out of his bedroom, he immediately saw Pei Ji and Chengcheng, the father and son who had been whispering the night before, standing at his door. Chengcheng held his hands behind his back, as if hiding something.

Before Chu Tinghan could react, Pei Ji suddenly grabbed Chengcheng’s arms, lifted him up, and held him out to Chu Tinghan with a smile, shouting, “Surprise!”

Chengcheng brought his hidden hand forward, revealing a paper lily he had folded. He held it out as if to present it to Chu Tinghan.

The act of lifting the child felt so familiar that Chu Tinghan momentarily lost his composure, as if Pei Ji were holding up not Chengcheng, but Lucky—the pup who used to be as small as a ball of fluff. Back then, Lucky would stick out his tongue and grin foolishly, his little tail wagging back and forth. But now, the boy’s hand holding the flower trembled slightly, his expression stiff and unnatural, his entire demeanor radiating fear.

Chu Tinghan’s gaze lingered on Chengcheng for a long moment before he finally accepted the flower, forcing a smile and saying, “Thank you.”

Pei Ji, oblivious to Chu Tinghan’s odd behavior, continued, “We made an extra one last night. Here, I brought it for you.”

Chu Tinghan lowered his gaze, wordlessly studying the origami lily Pei Ji had painstakingly folded, cradled in his palm. He remained silent, his emotions growing increasingly complex.

Seeing Chu Tinghan’s downcast gaze and silence, Pei Ji couldn’t decipher his thoughts. Does he like it? Or not?

This origami lily couldn’t compare to the grand bouquet of fragrant lilies Chu Tinghan had gifted him upon leaving the hospital, but at least it was something Chengcheng and he had folded together, piece by piece. Surely it couldn’t be that bad?

Pei Ji pressed his lips together and asked nervously, “So, how is it? Did I fold it okay?”

Chu Tinghan slowly rotated the wooden stick serving as the lily’s stem between his fingers several times before finally saying, “It’s quite pretty.”

After a pause, Chu Tinghan finally looked up, his tone laced with suspicion. “Chengcheng’s so young. How could he fold such an intricate lily?”

Pei Ji gave an awkward laugh, unable to maintain the deception. “I folded it. But Chengcheng helped a lot too. For his age, he did remarkably well.”

Chu Tinghan stared at him for a moment, then curled his lips into a smirk. “Offering favors without an ulterior motive? Speak your mind—what do you want me to do this time?”

Pei Ji was torn between laughter and exasperation. He couldn’t fathom what he’d done in the past to give Chu Tinghan the impression that any act of initiative on his part must conceal some hidden agenda.

Can’t I just give you flowers? he wondered. Why does there always have to be a reason?

“Would you believe me if I said there wasn’t one?” Pei Ji asked, resigned.

Chu Tinghan’s gaze held a subtle, enigmatic quality.

Pei Ji gave up, pretending to reach for the flowers. “Fine, don’t take them then.”

With a swift maneuver, Chu Tinghan pulled his arm back, deftly evading Pei Ji’s hand. As expected, Pei Ji’s outstretched hand landed on empty air.

Pei Ji frowned and sighed dramatically. “Alright, fine. Let me think…”

He racked his brain for a moment, then suddenly remembered how Chengcheng had been gaping and exclaiming “Wow!” last night while they were folding paper flowers, muttering something about never having seen real ones before.

Chengcheng is so grown up, and he’s never seen flowers? That’s unbelievable.

Pei Ji pondered, guessing that Chengcheng’s unique background had kept him indoors for most of his life, preventing him from seeing even the most common flowers up close.

Should I take Chengcheng out for a stroll?

“Are you free lately?” Pei Ji asked.

Hearing this, Chu Tinghan couldn’t help but smile, already anticipating Pei Ji’s invitation. But then, a third person was suddenly added to their date.

“Let’s take Chengcheng to the park to play. Some fresh air would do us good, like a spring outing.”

Chu Tinghan’s smile froze visibly.

Well, what’s one more kid? Besides, Chengcheng is our son now. I can’t just abandon my own child. He nodded in agreement.

Hearing his consent, Pei Ji immediately pulled him into a discussion.

“Should we go to the botanical garden or the zoo?”

“Wouldn’t a kid get bored looking at flowers and plants? Maybe the zoo would be more interesting. I remember they have a petting zoo where you can feed the animals.”

“But the zoo has predators. What if he gets scared? What if he starts crying?”

“Should we bring the stroller? If Chengcheng gets tired, we can push him in it, or I can carry him—he’s not heavy, after all.”

“Do we need a new water bottle? Is the one we have big enough?”

“Oh, right! The camera too! We have to bring the camera to take photos of him. Later, we can print them out and put them in an album to document his growth.”

“…Chu Tinghan?”

Pei Ji had been chattering away for ages without hearing a word from Chu Tinghan. The man simply stared at him, his eyes holding an unreadable emotion.

Pei Ji waved a hand in front of Chu Tinghan’s face, smiling. “What’s on your mind?”

Chu Tinghan snapped out of his daze, forcing a stiff smile. “You decide. I’ll go along with whatever you want.”

Every word Pei Ji spoke felt like another shackle tightening around Chu Tinghan’s heart. Each phrase added another layer to the chains, each sentence drawing them tighter.

In Chu Tinghan’s eyes, Pei Ji seemed to be enveloped in a soft glow. These words were too beautiful, too blissful, like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over him, jolting him back to reality.

He had almost forgotten that this entire idyllic scenario was a fabrication of his own making.